


Be Ready For Me

by destimushi



Series: The Kink Chronicles [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Plug, Anticipation, Butt Plugs, Dom Castiel, Dom Castiel/Sub Dean Winchester, Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Praise Kink, Sub Dean, Sub Dean Winchester, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 17:01:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11994114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destimushi/pseuds/destimushi
Summary: “Cas.” Dean says through a soft sigh, and his shoulders droop. Warm blue eyes stare at him through the screen, and Dean preens, just a little.“How was work?”“It was...I was distracted.” Dean’s cheeks grow warm, and he looks down at his hands.“Were you ready for me?”“Always ready for you, Cas…” Dean’s voice trails off into a breathy moan, the s turns into a  hiss as his cock twitches. God, Cas’ voice, those words, and Dean can feel himself going under beneath all that blue.“Such a good boy, all naked and ready for me,” Cas says and shifts behind the camera. “Show me how ready you are.”





	Be Ready For Me

_ I’ll call you tonight at 10. Be ready for me. _

Cas texted him this morning, and it was all Dean thought about as he tried to make it through his shift, hiding a persistent chubby. The plug shifts in him as he stretches out on the bed, has been shifting in him all day, and it is damn near impossible to think as he rides the edge now, ready.  

The unmistakable ring of a video call chimes at 10pm. Dean jumps and accepts after just one ring. Maybe that makes him needy, or desperate, but Dean doesn’t care, not when his cock is aching and his ass is on fire and he  _ needs _ to feel Cas’ hands on him. 

“Hello, Dean.” Cas’ voice strokes him like a tangible thing, and Dean shudders as it smoothes over his jagged nerves. 

“Cas.” Dean says through a soft sigh, and his shoulders droop. Warm blue eyes stare at him through the screen, and Dean preens, just a little. 

“How was work?”

“It was...I was distracted.” Dean’s cheeks grow warm, and he looks down at his hands. 

“Were you ready for me?” 

“Always ready for you, Cas…” Dean’s voice trails off into a breathy moan, the s turns into a  hiss as his cock twitches. God, Cas’ voice, those words, and Dean can feel himself going under beneath all that blue. 

“Such a good boy, all naked and ready for me,” Cas says and shifts behind the camera. “Show me how ready you are.” 

Dean draws a sharp breath, and his cheeks burn hotter than the pavement on a hot, summer day. Cas watches him, gaze steady, expression unreadable, and Dean can feel his body react, come alive. His nipples tingle, and when he grazes curious fingers across them, he finds them hard. 

“Did I say you can touch?” Cas’ voice is colder, and Dean shivers as if the temperature has dropped in the room. 

“I’m sorry, sir.” And he is, so very sorry. 

“Don’t keep me waiting.” Colder still. A command, and Dean yearns to obey, to get back into Cas’ good graces. He shivers and scrambles onto his knees. His cock bounces between his legs, and pre-come blurts out the tip as he turns around and bends over, his hands reaching behind, revealing the glittering green crystal nudged snugly between his cheeks.  

“My favourite plug. You’re such a good boy for me.” Cas’ praise drapes over him like a blanket, chasing away the cold. No one has ever had that effect on him; the ability to take him under with nothing but the sound of a gentle voice and the sweep of a passionate gaze. 

Dean cranes his neck towards the laptop and mutters a gratitude to HD cameras. Cas’ lips glisten, as if he’d just swiped his tongue across them. It’s a tell, one Dean knew so well, and it urges him to wiggle his ass. The crystal winks, trapping soft lamplight.

The plug grinds into him, and with his ass in the air, it doesn’t take much movement for the solid silicon tip to find his prostate. Dean parts his cheeks further, and in the smaller window in the corner of the screen where the camera is pointed at himself, he can just make out the glint of slick around his hole.     

“You’re not wearing a cock ring,” Cas says, “confident you’ll make it through the call, are you?”

“I can be good.” Dean arches his back, and the burn of stretched muscles fuels his want. 

“I know, you always present so prettily for me.” Cas leans back, and Dean can see the tip of Cas’ cock in the bottom of the screen. It’s pink and shiny, and the faint taste of Cas ghosts his tongue. “I want to watch you fuck yourself. Nice and slow, with that pretty plug of yours. Oh, but don’t forget...”

Dean swallows, his tongue thick and his throat suddenly dry as a desert. He’s not allowed to come, not until Cas says so, not until he’s earned it, but the plug’s kept him on constant edge, and maybe he should have slipped on a ring before getting hard after all.

Blue eyes are watching him, expectant. Dean takes a deep breath and the crystal slips before he gets a firm grasp on it. His muscles spasm as he pulls, and the thickest part of the plug struggles to open him up. 

“That’s it, baby”—Cas breathes out and angles the camera down so Dean can see his hand wrapped around his cock—“do it in time with me.” 

Cas strokes up, and Dean, in his haste to keep up, yanks on the plug before he’s ready. Pain shoots down his legs and tickles his toes, but the burn of his tortured hole douses the fires of his arousal. Dean grips the crystal tightly and follows Cas’ hand as he fucks himself open. Every push is a caress of Cas’ cock, and every pull sets his every last nerve ending on fire as he aches to be filled again. 

“So good, Dean, so obedient.” Cas talks at him non-stop _ ,  _ and Dean only gasps louder as he pushes the plug all the way in and yanks it out to the tip. “That’s right, baby, I want to see that little hole pink and swollen, show me how much you wish that’s my dick stretching you open right now.”  

Dean’s breath echoes, harsh and unashamed as he rides the razor sharp edge between obedience and bliss. Beads of sweat roll into his eyes, and his hand cramps with the awkward angle as he thrusts the plug back inside. Every muscle is coiled tightly, so much tension he’s vibrating like a plucked string. His thighs are trembling, his hips locking as he spreads his knees further apart, but he barely registers the discomfort. Nothing exists outside of the caress of Cas’ voice, the embrace of his words, and the electrifying shock of his crystal blue gaze. 

It was becoming harder and harder to ignore the immense pressure between his legs. Dean squeezes his eyes shut and reaches his free hand to grip the base of his cock. It wasn’t working, and it  _ hurts _ but he can’t—

“Dean, stop.” The command is a bucket of ice water on sunburnt skin, and Cas takes pity on him. Dean lets the plug slide back inside before collapsing, trapping his twitching dick between his stomach and rumpled soft sheets. 

His body twitches, pushes against the chains of control, but Dean’s above all that. He’s floating, a creature made of light and air and he’s dancing with the dust motes. Or maybe he’s seeing spots. Dean doesn’t care, because his cock has stopped jerking and the pain’s replaced by a dull ache, and he didn’t come. A sound tugs at the soft edges of his consciousness, and he thinks he hear his name like an anchor, pulling him back down to earth. 

“—ean? Dean, baby, can you hear me?” Cas’ voice rolls over him like a summer’s breeze, and Dean makes a garbled noise. It was another few shuddering breaths before his eyes open, heavy lids fluttering, and Cas’ frown eases, just a touch. “Are you okay?”

“...yeah. A little shaken, a little wrung out, but I feel good,” Dean replies, his words slurring at the end. Cas smiles then, and Dean’s chest seizes at the way the blue of his eyes soften.  

“You didn’t come, did you.” Not a question, because Cas knows Dean can be good for him. Is always good for him. “You’re incredible, Dean. What did I ever do to deserve you?” 

Dean has never been good with praise, but when Cas feeds them to him like honeyed fruit, Dean gobbles them up and lets the sweetness seep right through him. These praises hold him as if Cas is here, his strong arms pulling Dean against a broad, solid chest. And Dean clings to those words like a lifeline, and wraps his arms around himself. “I miss you.”

“I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon. Be ready for me.”

And Dean breathes deeply as anticipation shudders through him. “Always.”   


End file.
